


A Reminder

by heylissaaaaa



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 04:13:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13205718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heylissaaaaa/pseuds/heylissaaaaa
Summary: Being the Inquisitor is starting to get to Esha Lavellan. Luckily, Solas is there to lend a hand and perhaps a kind word.





	A Reminder

"Inquisitor? Are you listening?"  


Esha blinked, picked her head up from where it rested on her cupped hand. "I- no. I apologize, Josephine. What were you saying?" she asked. It was not a formal war meeting; just the two of them and Leliana in Josephine's office. Esha had been leaning against the arm of the chair, cradling her head as her advisor rattled off her schedule for the next few days. She threw herself out of the chair and paced before the fireplace. It was the best way to ground her.  


Josephine smiled at her reassuringly, she knew what it was to be this tired and distracted. They all did. "I was just reviewing the schedule for tomorrow. You are to attend the blessing of the new recruits in the morning, and then you are in several meetings in the afternoon. I will have your outfit sent to your chambers this evening. You will wear a modified version of the army's outfit in the morning, in the afternoon you may wear what you wish as long as it is appropriate," she explained.  


Esha nodded. Appropriate. _Appropriate_ meant something that an Orlesian noblewoman would wear. Nothing that would suggest her origins in any way. And her hair: always a low bun or coil, anything to hide her ears. Anything to make her look human. Less "like a savage". No one here would say it, but there were some who were not as kind.  


"Remember to ask all the appropriate questions, but don't seem too eager. They will know if you are prying," Leliana said. She was leaning on the far side of the mantle, peering at Esha under a hood that she wasn't sure she'd ever seen lowered. Esha felt naked, always naked, in Leliana's eyes. The spymaster always seemed to see her, see the cracks in her.  


Josephine raised her quill in the air as if Leliana's words sparked a thought that had thus far eluded her. "That reminds me. Your speech, for the troops. You have it memorized?" she said.  


Esha blinked, and nodded slowly. It was unconvincing. "It will be done by the morning," she said. In her tone at least, she sounded confident. Josephine made a face but dipped her head anyway. Esha stopped and looked between the other women. "If that is all, there are other matter to attend to."  


Josephine rifled through a few papers, an interjection on her lips. But Leliana got there first. "That is all, Inquisitor," she said. She gave Josephine a look and the latter fell silent, nodding her acquiescence. Esha was out the door not two heartbeats later.  


The short walk across the Great Hall never seemed short. There were always introductions to be made, hands to shake, reassurances to give. She could feel the edges of her smile drag and she pushed on a little more insistently, until she was able to shut the rotunda door silently behind her.  


As the door met the frame with a soft thud, it was like that sound had severed the string holding her up. Her shoulders sagged, her face fell, and even her mind felt like it lost it's shape, just a little bit. Her steps were slow, controlled, and she had made it to the exact middle of the rotunda floor before the first tear fell. She looked up and through the watery haze she saw Solas, already halfway out of his chair. The next minute she was sagging, falling only to be met with his arms. Pressure on her forehead - lips - and then nothing. She watched him cross the room and open the rotunda door just a few inches. Half a murmured conversation drifted back to her ringing ears.  


"Master Tethras?" he asked. A pause for an answer and then, "Your assistance, if you please."  


Solas returned quickly and slipped his arms around Esha's shoulders the same time she heard a loud commotion from the grand hall. Varric's voice echoed off the walls so many times she couldn't hear what he was saying. But she knew, she was sure, he was saying it in that voice he used when he was showing off.  


She was helped up and held up by Solas, guided towards that commotion. The doorway yawned before them, and when they passed through it she saw Varric, standing atop one of the tables on the other side of the hall. His arms were outstretched and he was beckoning everyone within earshot towards him with the promise of a "sneak peak" at his newest work. Anyone not particularly interested were respectful enough not to pay the two elves any attention at all.  


Esha didn't remember the door being closed behind them, couldn't hear the soft thud it made on closing. She didn't remember his patience as she slowly mounted each step like its own mountain, or how gently he set her down on the bed, pulling the covers up over her shoulders the way he knew she liked. She couldn't pinpoint when he had lit the fire, only that at some point she had tuned into its soft crackling like a lifeline, the sound that kept her breathing steady and her heart beating.  


But she did remember with perfect clarity the bed dipping under his weight, the covers pulling taut as he slid under them, his hands - still cold - settling around her and making her jump. She lost the last weight of her body as they settled around her, let go of the last scrap of control. He did not speak, did not ask. He took the weight from her and he waited. For her to crack, or cry, or just say _something_.  


"I don't know who I am anymore, Solas." It was breath on a sigh, so light and low he wasn't sure if she even meant to say it.  


"Vhenan, of all your questions, that is the easiest." His answer was no louder than her statement, no louder than the fire still keeping time in the corner. But it was spoken with such confidence, with such a sense of _knowing_ , that it resounded through her as if he had shouted. It made her breath catch and she turned under the covers to look at him. His face was soft as his words, more open than she was used to seeing him.  


Solas sat up, forcing her to do the same. He rearranged them so he sat against the headboard with her in his lap. His shoulders curved inwards and over hers and he reached around and took her left hand in both of his. He cradled it in his own left hand, pressing his thumb into her palm. The mark there glowed dully and she turned her head away from him.  


Solas kissed the side of her head and with his free hand gently turned her forward again. "Who do you think you are?"  


"I am the Inquisitor." Her response was immediate, automatic, mechanical. Her shoulders bowed with the weight of that word and he shook his head.  


"That is who _they_ wish you to be. Do you want to know who you are, Esha?" Her hair kissed his jawline as she nodded. "Eshalintarasylnin. Who are you? Well, let's see."  


He took his hand from her chin and uncurled her thumb. "You are a leader, that is true."  


Then he uncurled her index finger. "But you are also a dancer."  


Her middle finger. "A mage."  


Her ring finger. "A friend."  


Her pinkie. "You are the woman that I love."  


He curled her fingers over again and raised her fist to his lips. "You are so much more than just 'Inquisitor', vhenan."  


The first tear hit his forearm and he pulled their hands away from his mouth, dropping her hand to turn her face towards his again. He brushed away the tear track before another could follow it. "What's wrong?"  


Esha sniffed and took his face in her hands. Her heart stuttered at the intake of his breath when their lips met. His arms came around her, one on her back and the other in her hair. When she pulled away she was smiling. "Thank you."  



End file.
